


Luther

by blackShadow15



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Character Study, First Time, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Pollen, Sexual Fantasy, Sibling Incest, They're around 17, not that that was planed but well it happend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:28:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25989742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackShadow15/pseuds/blackShadow15
Summary: ‘Could be drugs’, Klaus said, while he sat down on the counter, not being helpful in any way. ‘I mean. If no one knows what this,’ he waved his arms around, like it would equal a word, ‘is then it's probably drugs.’
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves/Luther Hargreeves
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56





	Luther

‘I heard a rumor the wall is the most interesting thing you ever saw and needs all your attention.’ Allison was smiling sweetly at the criminal in front of her, her powers bending the man's will. And as a result he simply sat down and stared at the wall, totally blind for all the commotion around him. She did tie him up anyway.

They charged into the building a moment ago, full force, direct approach, the surprise on their side. The burglars, or whatever they were – there was not much of a briefing beforehand – were taken aback by the five children blasting into the room. They had been caught between staring and mocking. Because apparently not everyone watched the news these days. So they thought themselves superior until Luther threw one of them across the room. A bit blunt, but it definitely did the job. The remaining five – gone into panic but still keen on keeping their loot – promptly started to look for an escape route that was not the main entrance, because Luther definitely blocked that way. Which led to the situation they were in right now.

‘Anyone got an idea, what they’re actually trying to steal?’ Ben asked. He tripped one of their enemies with a tentacle. Then he walked over to tie him up, only to notice he had gone unconscious.

‘Could be drugs’, Klaus said, while he sat down on the counter, not being helpful in any way. ‘I mean. If no one knows what this,’ he waved his arms around, like it would equal a word, ‘is then it's probably drugs.’

‘Not everything's about drugs, Klaus.’ Diego threw a knife into a leg, making it easier for Luther to catch the guy it belonged to. He did not get why they took Klaus along on their missions anyway; most of the time he was high or drunk or both. And even when not, he was so fragile, Diego worried for his safety, even more than he did with the others. There was a part of him that understood why reality had to be hell for his brother – with a power like that, uncontrollable, not used at will like Allison's or limited to objects like Diego's own or easier to get the grip off with time like Luther’s – but he would never understand turning it off. Diego wanted his mind to be his; Wanted his senses to be sharp and clean and his body listening to his command.

‘Well these guys surely must know,’ Luther said slamming another one into the wall, in the same moment Allison said: ‘Shall I ask them?’

Which is also the moment the last of the burglars decided to flee down the hallway.

‘Damn it!’ Diego swore. Then he turned on his heel, chasing the culprit. He heard Luther shout something after him, but turned him out completely. Of course one of them had to scram. There was always one that had to scram.

They ran for a while. The hallway was longer than Diego expected. It really made him wonder what this building was usually used for. Research probably. Not fully legal, either. Diego threw a knife at the guy after the first few meters. But apparently that one had determination. Or too much adrenaline running through his veins. Either way he kept running, despite the knife buried in his calf. Diego thought of throwing his last knife, too, but he could definitely catch him. He was faster, fitter, younger and most importantly not injured. So he just kept running.

He caught the guy at the end of the corridor, as he tried to shove a door in Diego’s face as a last resort. 

‘Oh no man, you don't,’ Diego said, forcing his way into the room. His patience was running low. ‘You know...’ He scanned the room in one swift, practiced motion – just some shelves, filled with little white packages. Okay, maybe Klaus was right. That looked a lot like drugs. ‘I'm kinda impressed. Running away. With my knife stuck in your calf.’ 

The man was slowly backing away. Diego was wondering how threatening he must be looking. A seventeen year old, with a white eyed mask, playing with a knife. It was a weird feeling. It also was kinda pleasing.

‘So there is an easy and a hard way to -’ He did not get to finish this sentence. He just barely registered something flying his way. Too late to react. 

_ That is what you get for gloating, instead of doing your job, Diego _ , he thought. The next thing he felt was one of the white packets colliding with his face. Yellow powder spilled all over him, got in his mouth, in his nose. He coughed once, shook his head and wiped his face with his free hand.

‘Bad idea man.’

He did not tell any of the others about that little incident. There was no evidence left on his person. He checked, using one of the shiny metal shelves as a mirror. Checked twice just to be sure. Plus he felt fine. No reason to embarrass himself. He also did not tell them what he found in that room. It was none of their business. Their job was to catch the idiots that had decided to rob the place. They had done that job. Anything else did not matter. It was the one thing, they all agreed on. For different reasons surely, but still. And besides, if those were indeed drugs, Klaus was the last person on earth he wanted to know about that. 

So he explained the dozens of cuts the guy had – more than probably necessary – with ‘He was an annoying fuck.’ and left it at that. He could still feel Luther's eyes on him the whole ride home. As if he was one to judge, slamming people into walls and throwing them through rooms.

Diego could not wait to have a shower, once they got home. And brush his teeth. He still felt sticky and uncomfortable in his clothes, despite being physically and mentally fine. He had done his fair share of running today, and he could still feel the weird powder all over his face, sticking to his skin, uncomfortably thick and heavy. It also had left a weird taste in his mouth.

When he woke up the next morning, four am, he felt kinda restless. Like too much energy was running through his veins. So he put on some clothes and made his way down a hall, where he was sure not to disturb anyone. Then he ran up and down the stairs to power himself out. He felt silly doing stuff like that, like he was a child again, always trying to become better than Luther. He’d never had a chance, not with the way Luther's powers worked. He lost track of time while he ran, but at the end he felt satisfyingly drained. And he needed a shower; not that that made the workout less great.

He stared at himself in the mirror afterwards; while shaving, strangely fascinated by his own face structure. Stared until his reflection became a blur, and he had to pause to not hurt himself. 

Evening training session was when Diego's day got really weird. They were paired up for a sparring session. One on one. They had been doing this for weeks now; Changing partners as their father saw fit. Today it was down to Luther and him again. Not that he had anything against that. He liked fighting Luther. Liked riling him up. Liked the way they traded arguments and punches. Because even though most of the time he just could not stand perfect Number One, sometimes in those fights they were equals; and sometimes Diego came out on top. Not that Dad would give him any credit. But he knew Luther did. And that was enough for Diego, for the moment. But this day was different. His body was acting weird. And he was not up to his best form. Not at all.

_ Maybe I should not have run all those stairs this morning. _

But then again that should not have affected him the way it apparently did. Luther looked at him. Irritated. He did not look concerned, yet, and Diego was thankful for that. He did not need Luther's concern. And he did not need him to go easy on him either.

‘What's wrong Number One? Running out of steam?’ He taunted, smirking more self confident, than he actually was. He was too aware of how deep his breathing was, how heavy his limbs felt, how the places Luther put his hands, where their skin touched, burned. Had Luther always been this warm? 

Diego tried to hold his stance, but who was he kidding. He was just not up to the task today. It took only a second for Luther to flip him over, face pressed into the mattress. And that did things to Diego it really should not. He knew their father was watching, and usually he would have been angry and cussing. Maybe he should be embarrassed. But he could not concentrate on anything other than the heat that seemed to radiate from Luther's body, setting his own on fire. Luther's breath that brushed the skin on his neck. Luther’s hands that held him down. His own breath, short and shallow. The way his blood started to travel. And that heat that seemed to fully consume him. In this moment all of Diego's world narrowed down to just the two of them. No place. No time. Just Luther and him and the position they were in. Just Luther.

‘Okay, that's enough!’ Their father's voice cut through the fog like a scythe. Stern and cold. Luther got up, taking his heat with him and the first thing Diego thought was:  _ No, stop, come back!  _ But then he remembered the situation he was in, and that, what seemed to be a timeless void to him, were just mere seconds to everyone else. He also realized that they all just saw him go down way too easily. He still could not find it in him to feel any embarrassment; too bothered, too confused with what the hell that had been. It only came to him later that their father, even if unintentionally, had saved him. Because Diego did not know what he would have done if they had been in that situation any longer.

Luther got praise, of course he did. Diego got nothing, but he was used to that, too. At the moment he had more dire problems to tend to anyway. Like the one in his pants, or avoiding the others for that matter. He had no idea how the last moments had looked from the outside, but he was sure someone would want to talk about it. That was just the luck he had. If he was indeed lucky it would be Klaus. Klaus who would not go away until he got any kind of explanation. Diego grimaced. And that was the best of his options. If it would be Allison or god forbid Luther.

_ Would that really be so bad? _ a tiny voice in the back of his head asked.

Diego nothing but jumped into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him, just as memories of strong hands came back to his mind. And with it the heat, that boiled inside his stomach like a raging fire. Diego did not think he ever managed to get out of his clothes this fast. Almost falling over his own two feet as he stumbled into the shower and turned the water on.

Cold water rushed down his skin, but it did nothing to tame the heat inside him. Nothing to make his erection go away. Diego groaned, eyes closed, head falling against the tiles. He turned up the water temperature. Not that it mattered to him right now, but he had enough control left to save himself from getting a cold. The warmth added to the heat inside of him, had him bite his lip. He took a shaky breath and tried to concentrate on the pictures that he normally thought of while masturbating.

But all that filled his mind was the feeling of Luther's breath on his neck. Of his hands on Diego's arms, his back. Pressing, holding, stroking. He pictured Luther's face. His lips moving, not saying anything. His eyes, intensely staring him down. A moan escaped Diego's throat, totally lewd and pathetic at the same time. He did not notice when he had started touching himself, but now that he was at it, he could not stop. Could not stop thinking. Imagining. Luther's hands wandered up his back, way to gently, because deep down Number One was a total sap. Diego's left hand touched his own chest, caressed his skin, his muscles, his nipples, made him shudder. His mind told him it was Luther's. Luther touching him, stroking him, making him moan, and his breath hitch. Luther. Just Luther.

He had the other one's name on his lips, just a whisper, as he came, way too hard.

Afterwards his face was burning with shame. He could not even look at himself in the mirror. And the worst was, the heat was still there. Toned down a bit, but still bubbling, still fueling the need. And oh god did he need. He was not quite sure what it was he needed, he was just sure he did. He was also sure that something was not okay with him. That he was not  _ fine _ . The thought scared him. It also kinda relieved him. Because it meant that he had not suddenly developed a crush on his idiot brother. A very sexual crush. Now he just had to find out a way to get rid of whatever was plaguing him. Maybe it would just go away with time? Like any other drug did? Could he hope for that?

Dinner was pure torture for Diego. Not that he usually liked meal time with his family. All in silence, just the old record player running, that was way too easy to blend out; always under the scrutinizing gaze of their father. But tonight, Sir Reginald’s was not the only pair of eyes on Diego. Normally he would just put that on his paranoia, but he caught both of them staring at him, so he was pretty sure about it. Luther at least had the decency to look away the moment Diego's glare met his. Klaus just kept staring, openly and curiously. Diego tried to ignore them, focused on his food, but he could feel Luther's eyes again, the moment he went back to eating. It stirred up the heat, made it difficult for Diego to concentrate on anything else.

‘Diego! Diego, wait!’ Diego tried his best to just ignore the voice that was following him down the corridor to where their rooms were. Not too much success.

‘What do you want, Klaus?’ He asked, turning around the moment he reached his door, and it became very evident, his brother would not leave him alone. It was a stupid question.

‘Talk, duh. You're clearly having a problem. And I'm a good brother and help you out.’

Not interested, was what Diego wanted to say. But he had known Klaus all their life, and he knew that would be wasted spit. So he opened the door instead and dragged Klaus inside his room, closing the door again behind them. If they had to have this conversation, then not in the hall where someone could hear.

‘So?’ Diego did not trust his voice with sentences right now. The whole situation had him on the edge. He needed a lot of willpower to concentrate on the matter at hand, and keep his mind free of thoughts, pictures, that did not belong there. Everything felt too stuffy and warm again and his first instinct was to open up his window as wide as he could. Just to get some air in here. But he knew it was probably just his body acting up, and even the cool evening temperature would not be able to help with that. Plus Klaus would surely get cold. Despite the general opinion, he was not an asshole.

‘You're being weird Diego. Weird I say. Weird all day.’ Klaus stood in front of him, hands on his hips, as if he just made a point that would explain anything.

‘Weird?’ Diego echoed because he still did not want to talk. Especially not about the reasons for being ‘weird’ today. But he had a feeling he would not get out of this talk. Because it was Klaus he was talking to. And he was just dragging out the inevitable.

‘Yes. Weird. You've been restless all day. You're avoiding us. More than usually. You're avoiding me, I'm hurt.’ He clutched his chest theatrically. And it was just so Klaus, it would have been funny, if Diego had not been so absolutely not in the mode for this. He opened his mouth to tell his brother that he was-

‘Don't tell me you're fine, because you're not.’

And closed it again.

‘Really. I haven't seen you get beaten by Luther that fast in years. And you fleeing afterwards? Definitely weird. And then at the diner table. What was that? I'm pretty sure Luther’s getting it too. He might be slow. But he's not blind. So tell  _ me _ , so I can get ol' Number One off your case.’

Diego tried really hard to find an explanation that would leave him with some dignity, or at least made Klaus stop saying Luther's name that often. Every time he heard it it did something to him he could not describe. 

‘So _ I _ think you either developed a serious crush on our brother, or something else has happened, that has gone terribly wrong.’

‘S---Something else.’ Diego said, as fast as he could. He would not let Klaus’s mind wander too far on the crush path. Klaus raised an eyebrow that said: 'Please continue.' Diego pulled a face, and looked away to the opposite wall of his room, but he told Klaus, in as few words as possible, what had happened since yesterday. At the end he could hear Klaus whistle. Fucking whistle.

‘Oh, do you know what that means?’ Klaus asked.

‘I've been drugged?’ Diego said. Klaus was way too giddy about that fact.

‘You my friend got hit with sex pollen. Oh! Do you think we could go back there?’

Diego just stared. ‘Hn?’

‘Sex. Pollen. Aphrodisiacs in powder form?’

‘That's not a thing.’

Klaus rolled his eyes. ‘It's that or the crush. Your decision.’

‘Okay. It's the pollen.’ They looked at each other for a moment. Then Klaus winked at him. Of course he did.

‘So. Feeling anything with me?’ Klaus asked, wiggling his eyebrows, which looked extremly stupid.

‘Should I?’ Should he? He did not know how this was supposed to work. It still sounded like fiction. Klaus just shrugged.

‘How should I know. It's not like I tried it.’

‘You don't want to, It's painful.’ It really was. Diego could still feel the heat seething inside of him, even now. Washing over him like tidal waves from time to time, waiting to swallow him up completely. 

There was another pause. A pause in which Diego's mind drifted to different matters, stuff he really did not want to think about. Like the way Luther's muscles shifted under his shirt. Or how he watched him all throughout dinner.

‘Maybe you have to sleep with someone.’ Diego jumped at the sound of Klaus' voice. He had forgotten the other one was in the room.

‘What?’ He asked.

‘To get rid of the effect of the pollen. In the stories I read, it always works like that.’ Diego blinked at him. He did not ask what kind of stories – plural – Klaus was reading. Instead he said:

‘And with whom?’

‘Since I'm not your type,’ Klaus did not look like he cared about that, and Diego was really happy about it. It kept things less weird between them. ‘Maybe Allison. Or Luther?’

It irritated Diego that he had not taken Allison into consideration at all. Maybe if he had sparred with his sister this afternoon, it would be her, spooking in his head all evening. But he sparred with Luther. And Luther was the one stuck in his head.

‘Oh. Definitely Luther,’ Klaus said, staring down at Diego's crotch. And Diego did not have to look at all. Because he could feel the heat stir up again, angry and hungry. Ever so hungry.

‘Could you l--leave? Like now?’ His voice was a strain, as he pushed his brother towards the door.

‘What? Oh. Oh! Of course. I'm already out. Have fun.’ And with that Klaus was out of the door and Diego alone with his thoughts.

Diego had finished jerking off twice – it had not helped, so maybe Klaus was right. Not that he would admit that out loud – cleaned himself up, and put on new clothes, by the time someone knocked at his door. The digital clock on his night stand told him it was almost ten pm, almost curfew. He wondered; if he did not react at all, would the person in front of the door just go away? They did not, of course not. Instead Luther's voice came from outside, quiet, but worried.

‘Diego?’ And oh Diego should be annoyed, snarl something unfriendly and biting at the door, and finally go to sleep. Instead he was lying flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, trying to control his breathing. Hearing Luther's voice, Luther saying his name, sent waves of heat through his body, directly into his cock.

‘Diego, 'm sorry, but Klaus talked to me.’

_ Damn you Klaus! Stop deciding things for me. _

‘And he really got me worried. I mean, I was worried before but-’

Diego wondered if he would be able to come just from Luther talking through his door. He pictured him pressing his tall frame against it, so he could quietly whisper through the wood, lips chafing against the ruff texture. He had to cover his mouth to stifle the moan. This was getting ridiculous.

‘Diego? I'm coming in, okay?’

No not okay. Definitely not okay. Diego wanted to tell Luther that, wanted to tell him to stay the fuck out if his room. But the words were stuck in his throat again. He was also afraid that something else would slip out, as soon as he opened his mouth. So all he did was lie on his bed and watch as the door opened almost without a sound.

‘Diego?’ Luther ducked in, head first. The door closed with a silent click. And then they were alone. Diego stared at Luther, wetting his lips unconsciously. Luther took a few steps closer to the bed. And then the moon shone directly on him. Dipping his features in silver light. Suddenly Diego knew exactly what it was he needed. What he craved for.

‘Come here,’ his voice said. He wanted to jump up and push Luther to the wall. Wanted to shout at him and throw him out of his room.

_ Don't come closer,  _ his mind screamed and then.  _ Stay, please. _

Diego could feel his fingers twitch, his chest move; was overly aware of every part of his body, and still felt like he was not in control anymore. Luther moved closer, unaware of the struggle, the mess Diego was in. Moved closer until his knees hit the bed, and he could stare down on Diego's face. With him came the heat, and a wave of lust that made Diego's whole body tremble.

‘Luther,’ Diego said, his voice just a breath. He did not know what else to say. How to explain, how to convince, how to get what he wanted, needed.

‘Diego, you look feverish,’ Luther said, face stern, even though his voice was laced with worry. Mouth a painted line, the stare of his blue eyes pierced right through him.

_ Freaking hot,  _ Diego's mind supplied. He never noticed before, but he definitely did now.

Luther bent down, pressed his hand on Diego's forehead. And Diego leaned into the touch, because being touched – anywhere – felt so good right now. Like air for a drowning man.

‘Uff, you're hot,’ Luther said, because he would not be caught cursing. The wording was so ironic in that moment, that Diego almost laughed. Instead he reached up, pulled Luther's head down the last few inches and kissed him.

So here was the thing: Diego had never kissed anyone before in his life. They grew up mostly isolated in the mansion. The only contact they had with the outside world, was the missions and contracts that their father made for their hero identities. That left them with no chance to meet other people their age. And as a result Diego had no sexual or romantic experience whatsoever.

The kiss was more a forceful meeting of their lips than anything else, teeth clanging against each other, a sharp pain that shot through Diego's head. Luther's hand almost crushed his forehead, the bigger boy brought out of balance by the unexpected, unfamiliar contact, a muffled noise escaping his mouth. Diego did not care about the pain. As a matter of fact it only added to his excitement. He wanted more of this, more contact, more friction, everywhere, all at once. Wanted to feel Luther's hands, his mouth, his teeth, his body on his. Wanted to hear Luther’s voice in his ear, wanted to be crushed into the bed. He pictured himself, wrists captured in one of Luther's big hands, a knee between his tights, grinding, and bit his lip so hard it drew blood.

Luther stared at him for a moment, face blank, mouth fishing for words. Diego's rapid breath the only audible sound in the room. And then the fuck had the nerve to move away. Even through the haze Diego managed to shoot a death glare at him.

‘What are you doing, Diego?’ If he had not been so desperate for skin to skin contact right now, he would have rolled his eyes. Leave it to Luther to ask the absolute obvious.

‘Come back here,’ he ordered.

‘Oh no, I'm definitely not.’

‘If you leave me here... This is your fault, too.’

Luther stared at him again, confused, until his eyes reached Diego's lower parts. Diego could watch the realization hit his face, and the colour draining out of it.

‘A- I. No.’ Luther was shaking his head now and Diego really had the urge to strangle him.

‘I’m drugged Luther.’ It was interesting how easy the words came out of his mouth. While his mind wanted nothing more than to slip into fantasy. ‘Be a good Number One. Help me out.’ Diego had planned to sound bossy, in control. Instead it sounded more like a whine, a plea. But that was probably what got Luther's attention. Got him into mission mode.

‘What should I do?’ He asked, coming near the bed again.

‘Touch me.’

Luther blinked.

‘Anywhere is fine.’

And then Luther's hand was on him again. A strong presence on Diego's left arm. The second one followed shortly after. Just lying there, not moving. This had to be the most vanilla sex experience anybody ever had. Klaus would probably be booing if he ever heard about it. Not that Diego planned on sharing.

‘Move, big guy.’ He was growing frustrated. The heat still pulsed through his veins, in his cock. And Luther was just standing there, hands pressed on Diego's arms, motionless like a statue. A very hot statue. The statue stared at him again, thinking, and then from one moment to the other it was sitting between his legs. The change of position was so sudden, it caught Diego off guard. He needed a moment to focus again; and in that moment Luther's hands had found their way from his arms onto his bare chest. Diego shifted almost instinctively. His eyes were transfixed on the fingers tracing his muscles. When he swallowed his throat felt dry. There was a special kind of tension in the air that had Diego's skin prickle, had him tilting his head back, eyes almost shut. Luther's fingertips left hot trails all over his chest.

It was the first time Diego was touched like this by someone other than himself. And it was embarrassing, funny really, how much his body reacted to something so simple, so... But at the same time it still was not enough. Not enough. Not- Luther's finger brushed over his nipples, as if by accident. He did not know if Luther knew what he was doing. He doubted it. But in the end he did not care. Diego moaned. There was no use in keeping these sounds to him, not enough control left to feel any shame, any fear he could scare Luther away again. Something complicated happened on the taller one's face, something Diego did not understand. And then the rough texture of a thump was pressed against his nipple again; more firm this time. More sure. Diego's breath hitched. The drug in his blood made every sensation so much more intense; it must be the drug. He mewled. So close, so close. He moved his hand, touched himself. So close, but not enough.

‘Luther.’ His voice was hoarse. The other looked at him, gaze focusing on Diego's face. There was a part of Diego that was sure Luther's mind would drift of; to Allison. But now there were those piercing blue eyes staring down at him, seeing only him. Something swelled up in his chest, something he could not place, nor name. He swallowed again. Mouth moving without a sound, trying to formulate the words, the things he wanted right now. In the end he pulled Luther down into another kiss. And this time the other did not run away. Instead he kissed back. And oh yeah, Luther had kissed before. Soft, sweet kisses, shared with Allison in private moments in secret places. Diego growled and bit Luther's lower lip. There was a surprised gasp, but Luther opened his mouth anyway. And then it was all teeth, and mixed breath, and tongues, inexperienced and messy and so, so good. And Diego was so overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of everything, his mind went blank for a solid second. 

When he came back, Luther was sucking on his neck, teeth scraping over skin. Diego inhaled sharply, eyes fixated on the other’s head. His hand reached out blindly, touching fabric, touching skin, traveling up Luther’s abs. The other hummed against his collarbone. A little pleased sound, that made Diego feel weirdly proud and pissed him off at the same time. Luther worked his way up Diego’s throat, leaving a wet line of bite marks on the skin. Diego tilted his head, giving the other more access, facing the wall, his sounds muffled by his pillow. He lost himself in sounds and pain and the rhythm of his own breath. The sensation got him only halfway where the drug in his system wanted him to be, and was still more than he ever experienced. He tried not to think about who Luther was picturing in his mind. He was sure there were no teeth in play with Allison and something about the thought alone made him want to drive Luther further down that path. Ruining him, claiming him only for himself. He dug his nails into the other one’s arms, leaving marks of his own, satisfied by the way Luther’s breath hitched soundless, just a brush of air ghosting over Diego’s hot skin. Luther answered with more teeth, biting down hard, pleasurable pain shooting through Diego’s system, promising marks Diego should have been pissed about, but right now was not.

_ Yes! More!  _ His mind screamed. The thought of proof on his body, them leaving undeniable traces on each other, drove him on and something primal, brought forth by the drug pulsing through him, wanted to just sink into that feeling. Drown in it. Made him throw all caution out of the window. He dragged his nails down hard, pleased to see the red smears they left on the other’s arms. He moaned, drunk on Luther’s little, suppressed groans, scratching his skin to get more, more- Until Luther grabbed both of his wrists and pinned them over his head. Irritated Diego shot him a glare. There was an alien look on Luther’s face. Something close to fascination. Diego tried to move his hips, to get any action in this weird mode of static Luther brought them in. But moving at all was kinda difficult, with the taller one still kneeling between his legs, upper body bent over him, pinning him down with one hand. The other one was pressed into the pillow, close to Diego’s face, holding Luther’s weight.Their heavy breath echoed loud between them, making the absence of all other sounds even more evident. The place Luther had captured with his hands burned, making the loss of skin contact painful obvious. Damned into this unmoving position, Diego took a moment to take in Luther’s appecience. The ruffled shirt, flushed skin, the marks Diego’s nails left on his arms, the lovebitten lip, and still that look on his face, as if he was really seeing Diego for the first time. That look itself was a treat. And the knowledge that he was the reason for it- But the sudden stop in their previous activity was really irritating. He bit his lip and cocked an eyebrow, waiting for any reaction. 

‘What are we doing, Diego?’ Luther asked. His breath was brushing over Diego’s lips, ever so slightly. Diego blinked at him. Once, twice. Then he laughed, short and disbelievingly. 

‘What are we doing?’ He echoed. ‘Having sex. I hope. Or something close.’ There was mild panic in Luther’s eyes, but he was not moving away. Diego had envisioned this scenario more hot, and not this awkward. 

‘Come on, big boy. What are you afraid of?’ 

‘I’m not-’

‘Really? ‘Cause it looks more as if Number One is afraid of touching someone else’s dick.’ Diego did not know what he was saying anymore. He just wanted to move this along.

Now Luther was blinking at him, opening his mouth to probably talk more, which was something Diego could not bear right now. So he dug his feet into the mattress and bent his back, full body rubbing against Luther’s broader form above him, taking full advantage of the stable point Luther’s grip was giving him. Two could play this game. 

‘I am not,’ Number One repeated, with determination and pushed Diego back down with his weight. It brought back hazy thoughts of the sparring session, sent a shiver down Diego’s spine, had him bite his lip and moan through his teeth. He did not mind losing like this. 

‘Then take responsibility, Luther,’ he said, allowing a pleased, smug smile to show on his face. A flash of hurt pride passed over Luther’s face, but Diego could not find it in him to feel any kind of guilt. At this point he would do anything to drive his brother where he needed him to be. The drug was pulling on the edges of his sanity, unraveling it slowly but steadily and Diego feared to lose his mind all together. 

He rocked his hips, as much as he could, with Luther pinning him to the bed, rendering him almost motionless, which to be honest was extremely hot. But the movement rubbed their erections against each other and made them groan in unison. God, Luther was hard. Diego made Luther hard. All on his own. Pride welled up in his chest, stupid, childish pride. Perfect, stoic Number One, that always belonged to Allison and missions and rules, was kneeling over him on his bed, rock hard, just because of him.

And then Luther shoved his large hand down Diego’s pants, rough skin closing around Diego’s dick, creating a friction that felt familiar and was still totally different. And Diego was so, so sensitive. His eyes closed, head pressing into the pillow and he was sure that nothing other than Luther’s name was falling from his lips, because it was the only thing he could think about. The only thing that mattered. 

Luther grunted, moved, and suddenly Diego’s hands were free again. Luther shifted Diego’s body, pushing his back up, to remove Diego’s pants. And Diego’s body just burned. There was something incredibly arousing in the way Luther moved him around like a puppet. As if Diego’s whole body just existed to be twisted and turned by Luther’s hands, Luther’s enormous strength.

‘Luther, please,’ Diego begged, because he still needed more, more of Luther, always more. Luther looked at him, pupils blown wide, eyes glistening. He looked as turned on as Diego was feeling. Which was ridiculous, because Diego was the one on drugs, and Luther was just helping. Diego grabbed the hem of Luther’s pyjama pants, pulling with shaking hands, leaving marks on Luther’s hips in the process again. And Luther smiled way too soft. He grabbed Diego’s hands with his own and pulled them down, moving the pants with them. Diego inhaled sharply because he could see now, could see how much of an effect he had on Luther and it made him almost come. But he could not, the drug did not let him, still demanded more. It had Diego begging again. Luther bent over him, stabilizing himself with one hand and kissed the pleas from Diego’s swollen lips. 

Then Luther’s hand was back, grabbing both of their cocks rubbing them together and Diego stopped thinking. For a few wonderful seconds, it was just simple movement, flesh against flesh, pleasured sounds mixing in between them. Until Luther dipped his head lower, rapid breath ghosting over Diego’s ear.

‘God Diego,’ Luther grunted, breathy and deep.

Diego came with a shout. Spilling all over his own belly and Luther’s hand. Came so hard he saw stars. Luther followed right after, mumbling Diego’s name into the other one’s ear, in a constant string, that Diego did not know how to handle. So he kissed Luther even though he could finally breathe again. He was left comfortably drained, even the heat vanishing. Maybe Klaus had been right. Or - and Diego thought this to be the more likely explanation - he had worn it off at last. 

He grabbed the tissues from his nightstand and started to clean them off, first himself then Luther. He was so occupied with getting their cum off Luther’s hand, that he almost missed the way Luther was watching him. Luther did not pull his hand away, and Diego was still too comfortable in this happy space, where reality could not reach him. So he finished cleaning and threw the papers into the bin, absentmindedly, before he looked back up at Luther, who was still in that same kneeling position on the bed. They breathed almost in the same rhythm, silence settling around them, comfortable like a blanket. Diego wanted to reach up and kiss Luther again, just once, one last time. Something fluttered in his stomach at the way Luther was looking at him. Something that scared him. Something he did not want to think about. 

‘Are you okay?’ Luther asked, and his voice sounded raw.

Diego nodded. ‘I’m okay,’ he said. Even though the fluttering became stronger with Luther’s open concern. 

‘Okay… I- ehm…’ Luther slowly rose, pulling his pants back up in the process. And it should have worked as a barrier between then and now, but it did not. Should feel like an ending. But Diego still wanted to kiss Luther, and the fluttering warmth was still there. Luther stood in front of the bed, hesitating.

‘I should go,’ he said, but remained glued to the spot. ‘It’s way past curfew.’

Diego with irritation realised that he did not want Luther to leave.  _ It’s the drugs _ , he told himself, but he knew that was a lie. He could distinguish the all consuming heat from the way he was feeling right now. That was why it scared him. That was why Luther should leave. Before Diego got lost. Before he started to be totally screwed.

‘Yes you should,’ he said. ‘If Mom sees you sneaking around at night she will worry.’

‘If Dad sees me he will get pissed.’ 

They both pulled a face at that. Luther looked up to their father, Diego knew that, but even Luther could not always escape the moods of Reginald Hargreeves.

And yet Luther still remained stuck, shifting from one foot to the other. Diego could see his mind working, gears turning until Luther reached a conclusion that had him take a step forward, a fast one, too fast for Diego to even react.

‘I-’ Luther said, bent down and kissed Diego, soft and caring, and Diego’s insides melted. 

‘Stop fighting everything alone, Diego,’ Luther said, and it sounded like one of his lectures, but the tone was different, warmer.

‘Go to bed, Luther,’ Diego said back. He turned his face away in a helpless attempt to hide the blush creeping up to his face. 

He listened as Luther moved through his room, listened to the door closing, to Luther’s steps out on the corridor. Only then he allowed himself to relax.  _ Oh god,  _ he thought and blamed those feelings on the drugs. On the fact that he was seventeen and never had been this close to anyone before. On Luther for being so stupidly soft and nice to him. He turned around, hid his face in the pillow and willed sleep to take it all away.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was supposed to be a short, smut-writing training OS. Instead it turned into half a character study, got way longer then I ever expected and took me over half a year to actually finish. How life goes I guess. I'm also way to much in love with those idiots. And the pairing.
> 
> Thanks to Fionir for beta reading the whole thing. And sitting with me through all the frustration writing can bring. Would probably not have finished anything without her.


End file.
